Named for wolves, yet I live inside you, A pointed spear, able to tear through. When bared I am a cornerstone.

On the face of it. I'm only wasted, if no fun was had. It doesn't take Einstein to understand that.

I’m no horse of course, though I’m often confused, I carry your burdens and still get accused. My voice is a laugh, my ears steal the show, I’m smarter than people are willing to know.

I am a stick with hair, moving across surfaces and taking care to let my bristles touch everything.

Oh my stars! In a game of boards and bulls, this swift guest strikes true, faster than a cat on a hot tin roof. Its path, like a needle's, finds the mark with the precision of a midnight owl's flight.